After answering Qin Jingru's question, Jia Dongsheng turned his attention to Uncle Qin and waited for his answer.
"Yes, there are so many grapes on the mountain, so many that we can't pick them all."
Facing Jia Dongsheng's question, Uncle Qin was finally able to speak, and his words were unusually simple: "Dongsheng, you don't know, these grapes are too sour, few people are willing to eat them."
"So I didn't pick much, and I sent you two baskets to try."
Not much was picked, but two baskets were picked. Jia Dongsheng was completely shocked by this adjective. How much mountain wine could be brewed from this!
"Uncle, are you telling the truth?" Jia Dongsheng asked in surprise.
"Of course it's true. If you don't believe me, ask the third brother." Uncle Qin patted Qin's father on the shoulder as he said this.
"It's true. There are many grape vines on the mountain, but no one wants to eat them, so there are few people picking them."
Well, as usual, he said little and fell silent again after that.
"In that case..."
Jia Dongsheng thought for a while, then came to the two baskets of wild grapes and observed them carefully. Finally, he came to a conclusion in his mind that in order to brew 100 kilograms of wild grape wine, at least ten baskets of wild grapes would be needed.
"Dad, uncle, I'd like to order some wild grapes. Could you please bring them to me?"
"Hey, Dongsheng, we're all family, why are you being so polite? Just tell me how much you need and I'll bring it back to you."
Uncle Qin patted Jia Dongsheng on the shoulder, feeling somewhat dissatisfied with his politeness.
"I just want to trouble you uncles."
"What's the problem? There are so many wild grapes, it would be a waste to leave them hanging on the tree. I can pick them all for you if you need them."
These are really generous words, but Jia Dongsheng doesn't need so much.
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